


Time Isn't Enough

by TheImmortalThiefLord



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Suicide Trigger, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 06:29:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7924144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheImmortalThiefLord/pseuds/TheImmortalThiefLord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anya/Raven short fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Isn't Enough

-Girl Struck Down; Train Driver Says She Couldn't, or Wouldn't, Move.   
-Train Crash, Tragic Death of Anya Lachman.  
-Accident or Suicide? Was the Girl Who Walked in Front of Train Trying to End Her Life?

I shove the newspapers off the couch and let my feet collapse underneath me. I drop onto the couch with a sigh, and turn on the TV, expecting to find the familiar shapes and sounds of my favourite cartoon. Instead, my eyes are filled with the images of a dead girl, the dead girl, the one which is on every newspaper, billboard, and TV screen in the country. Anya Lachman, the country's most well-known singer. And, my lover of the past ten years.   
I know I don't have long, and everything comes into a sharp focus. My eyes have been spilling tears for God knows how long, my hands are wet and I haven't even noticed. I wanted to spend the last bit of time being comforted by my house, but it's not working. My legs shake violently, scaring even me. This is what I wanted, I have to remember that. I have to remember that I will see Anya again, soon, and be able to hold her in my arms.   
But then the terror comes. I knew it would be like this at the end, I knew I would be scared, but this is terror beyond belief. This is terror that makes my whole body shake in fear, my heart to race, and then, suddenly, it is over. All is dark. And I am free.

Hours Before  
I am kissing her, her mouth hot on mine, her legs wrapped around me and her hair splayed over the pillow. Her hands find their way under my belt, and I gasp. She pulls back, ever so slightly, asks if this is okay. I nod quickly, scared that she will still stop, even thought this is everything she and I have ever wanted.  
Hours later she lies next to me, bare under the sheets, her chest rising and falling ever so gently as she sleeps. My fingers trace down her face, in the hollow of her neck, and onto the slight curve of her collarbone. My fingers leave her skin, and I lay a soft kiss on the place where they were a moment before. She stirs, and cuddles closer to me, her warm skin against mine. I finally fall asleep, my head against her arm, comforted by her smell.

She gets up, pulling on her clothing and swiping on makeup for work, as I watch from the bed. She gives me a soft kiss before running out the door, making me want more, so much more. I soon get up too, and make myself a mug of coffee. I find myself, hours later, staring out the window, daydreaming about her. She is my everything.

She is late to come home, and I worry. I make dinner for us both, putting a yellow rose at her place. Rice and chicken, her favourite. She leaves for LA in a couple days, so I want to make this special. I know she will be back soon, but I'll still miss her for the weeks that she is gone.

It is midnight, still no sign of her. I curl on the couch and put a cartoon on. It soon lulls me into a deep sleep. I believe that I will wake up in the morning, and she will be there next to me.

It is morning, and she is not there. I panic, calling her cellphone again, her workplace, her best friend, even her ex. No one knows where she is.

11:30 AM. The newspaper comes. “Train Hits Woman on Tracks” it reads. Nothing registers. I throw it on the counter, next to my now-cold coffee.

7:30 PM. I have not done anything but pace and make phone calls all day. I have no nails left, no strength. The exhaustion is getting to me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the newspaper still lying forgotten on the counter. I pick it up, staring at it blankly until my phone rings. I pick it up with one hand, “Hello?

It registers, just then, and I know what is coming next before it even does. “Miss Rayes, we are deeply sorry to inform you-

They are red, red like my blood. I feel no pain, I feel nothing. They slide down easily, the brightly coloured fruit punch on top of them. I drink it all and set the glass down on the sink edge. Hard. A hairline crack appears in its side. My hands grip the side of the sink, waiting for something, anything to happen. Nothing does.

Fifteen minutes later. I go to the couch, turn on the TV again, wanting to have some comfort to lull the pain. Yet, there is no pain. There is a picture of a girl on the TV screen, a young girl, with dark brown hair and a sharp nose. My mouth says it before my mind can catch up, “Anya.”

And then I'm gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Possibly the crappiest work I've ever posted, please don't bother giving me negative comments. Positive ones are always appreciated though!!


End file.
